This is the Deal You Agreed to
by lookimsorry
Summary: You wake up in unfamiliar surroundings with a pounding headache and no memory of how you got there. Demon!Dave, reader-insert. I have no idea what I'm doing. It was an idea that just wouldn't go away. The rating will be a little more appropriate eventually.
1. Chapter 1

When you woke, it smelled like reptile, and your head hurt. When you went to rub your eyes, there was a clank and a sharp pain in your wrists. Handcuffs. After letting your hands return to the bed, within the bounds of the cuffs, you tested your feet: whatever bound them allowed less movement than the cuffs, but was not metal. You tried to remember anything through the fog of pain and… drugs? Were you roofied? No. Keeping your eyes closed, you flexed all you could; damage check, starting at the head. You wiggled your eyebrows and nose, mouth (chapped, but fine) and chin. It felt a little silly, but you couldn't touch. You rotated your neck: there was a bit of a pinch there; most likely from sleeping on it wrong, a fact you couldn't control. Your arms felt as normal as possible, given the situation. Moving your rib cage and torso removed some of the tension residing there, and you sighed. This movement also revealed your nakedness. _Oh_. A few facts finally cleared: not only had you been totally alone; you weren't drinking. Well, definitely not alone. _Ugh_. Testing your lower body proved too difficult, but it was obviously there, so that was good. Check finished; you opened your eyes. This action revealed little: the headache immediately sent needles to the back of your eyes from the miniscule strip of light directly across from you. _A door? Likely_. You didn't keep your eyes open long enough to say for sure. There was a vent somewhere to the upper left, in front of your feet. Not close enough to feel. You could barely hear it whirring. _Must be the ac. _The air wasn't unpleasantly cold, though. Having finished your check, and discovered all you felt you could, you decided to stop fighting your mother of headaches, and slept, dreamlessly.

You woke to the door opening. It revealed a man, blond, tall and skinny. His hair was the too-perfect kind of tussled, that reminded you of a certain terrible book you loved once, and he wore oversized pointy sunglasses. Adorning his body was only a pair of black skinny jeans. At this point you remembered you were naked, and tried to cover yourself: suddenly being reminded of the cuffs and the… something… leather? On your ankles. Whatever it was, it was effective. But the man. He was holding a tray with food. He set it down next to you and his body shielded your view as he undid your ankles first, then pulled the key off the tray and undid your wrists. You quickly shielded your body with your freed appendages: rubbing your wrists in front of your chest, and crossing your calves. He motioned for you to eat: you eyed him warily.

"Easy there, darlin'." He said, with a mild southern twang. "You have nothing I've never seen before, and if any more than getting you to eat was allowed me, you would most certainly know by now." This did nothing to encourage trust.

"Here: look." He showed you his wrists: they had faded scars from similar cuffs. "I fought more than you when I woke; I think that's why they tried different things with you. Like those" He gestured to the leather strips, glancing around the room pausing in a corner then looking at you. "Now eat, or you're going to get us both in trouble."

You look at the tray still sitting next to you: there's silverware on a napkin, a plate of pancakes, a glass of OJ, tub of butter, and bottle of syrup. You eye the man and begin fixing your pancakes, then eating them. They were heavenly. The man watched you eat in silence. You didn't even notice. When you finished you leaned back and stretched your arms. The unnamed man quickly closed a cuff on your wrist. You angrily clawed at him with your free hand. He was out of reach as soon as the handcuffs clicked closed. You never had a chance. He mumbled something as he swiftly gathered your breakfast, but you couldn't hear it over the noise he was making.

After the door shut and locked again, you marveled at your own temperament. You were sure that any other day you'd be throwing a fit, screaming, crying, something… but no. Honestly, you were a bit bored. You took some time to observe the room around you, having been too fascinated by mumbler and his food to look around again. Last night it had been nearly pitch black, as far as you could tell. This morning it was lit by small windows close to the ceiling. The vent you heard the night before was in the corner to the left, on the wall with an unknown door. The main door was centered and alone on the wall directly in front of you. The room itself was painted purple, and big enough to accommodate three king sized beds like the one you were currently chained to. Inside the room along the right wall was a stained purple wood desk with a nice-looking black office chair. Along the same wall as the bed to the left was a white, unlit vanity with a matching cushioned stool and an armoire in plum. To the right of the bed was a bookcase neatly filled with hardcover books (sans dustcovers), and immediately next to that was a comfortable and plush looking purple recliner. The floor was carpeted, the carpet was purple. The length of the handcuffs meant you can't reach any of this, of fucking course. On the ceiling was a small chandelier and what looked like a hatch to an attic. You took your only step allotted off the bed and looked at it. It was a king size four poster bed with a latticed headboard. It was the headboard your left arm was currently attached to. The four posts held up curtains, these were also purple, and the wood was painted white. The comforter was white and patterned in lace, and the bed had a multitude of purple and white pillows, one of each color had a rose pattern, with a gemstone center. The pillows explained how your wrist could have been touching the bed. You removed the white comforter to reveal white bedding and pillowcases. After ensuring no discomfort in your chained arm, you threw the remaining pillows off toward the mystery door and lay on your back, pondering your arrival. You fell asleep, again, not dreaming.

When you woke again, the sun had gone down. The room was lit by the small chandelier. The room smelled like something familiar, that you couldn't quite place. And you weren't alone.

"Good evening" said the new stranger, sitting close in the office chair off to your right. He was wearing a well-tailored suit, and aviators. He was skinny, but you could tell by the way he moved that he was not weak. His brown hair was nearly as tousled as the blond you had seen earlier, but suited him better. His hair looked softer, with less gel. He had also less of a twang as the blond, but it was there.

"I apologize about the color scheme; I was running out of ideas. I saw the paint and just had to recreate an old memory." he said, running his hand through his hair. You must have made a face, because he continued, gesturing lazily "Easy there! It's only four of us here and everyone's come and left of their own accord. I know you don't remember, stop making that face." He put his elbows on the arms of the chair, steepling his fingers together in front of him. "I have a signed contract from you with the deal we struck, sealed with a kiss." He smirked, nonchalantly wiping one corner of his mouth with a finger. "Somehow, you even managed to keep your soul. Now, as for the late-night abduction, _you would not answer your phone._" His jaw tensed, and then he smirked and crossed his legs, resting one hand on his lap while the other was bent up near his face. "So we just grabbed you when we knew where you'd be. As for your lack of clothes, that is punishment for your… failure to communicate. The handcuffs and feet braces were your own suggestion." The smirk had disappeared somewhere along the line. "Now, will you behave?"

You nodded

"Very well." he flicked his wrist: the cuffs disappeared. "Then you are free to do as you please within the room." He rose from the chair. Heading for the door, he paused. "Ah, yes. One more thing that I added to our agreement: You will call me daddy." And he went through the door.

You opened EVERYTHING as soon as the door clicked shut. You started with the desk: the wooden drawers wouldn't budge when you tugged on the metal handles. Same with the armoire. The vanity's 5 drawers all contained familiar items: make up, deodorant, birth control, hairbrushes and accessories; it was mostly empty. You opened the mystery door: it was filled with clothes; there was another vanity in here, with a sink. In this vanity were your toothbrush, toothpastes, and undergarments. To the right was a door leading to a clean white bathroom: there was a sink and toilet, a massive shower: it had 4 visible jets, the main head was straight above in the middle of the stall and there was even a multi-setting removable head, and a massive tub. In the cabinet under the sink were towels, lotions, soaps, shampoos, conditioners, razors, loofahs and bubble baths. You grabbed one of each. After pouring bubble bath in the tub and starting to fill it; you hung two towels on a towel rack on the wall between the tub and shower, you placed the lotion on the vanity, hung the loofah on a peg you found inside the shower, placing everything else on a shelf you found. While inside the shower you found four more jets, a second removable head, and a couple seats, as well as three more pegs and another shelf. Having finished that; you turned off the water on the full tub and got in. the bubbles engulfed your head.

After a while you got out and hopped in the shower, fidgeting with dials until you figured out which was the main head and the perfect temperature. You washed clean, taking special care to your wrists.

After drying off and moisturizing you explored the closet. There were dresses from sundresses to ball gowns of varying lengths and skirts, strapless to full sleeve. There were jeans of all types and yoga pants, shorts and skirts of different materials and lengths. Next to the bottoms was a variety of tops, also ranging from large hoodie to something orange that was more hole than cloth. In a corner was a pair of drawers, in which were sleeping gowns and lingerie. There was even a pantsuit and a skirt suit. You put on some panties, a hoodie, and some yoga pants and left the closet.

He was sitting in the desk chair again.

"I see you found the bathroom and the closet to your liking." He smirked "but that outfit will never do." He waved his hand again, and all you had been wearing disappeared.

"What to put you in, then?" he muttered, almost to himself. You could feel his eyes on you. He tapped his chin thrice, then waved his hand again and a red and white cotton sundress appeared, with a matching leather choker. He had even been so kind as to provide a bra and panties. You were still barefoot. "Yes. That will do nicely. Now, what do we say?"

What?

"Oh, come now." He said, tsking "What is normally expected of you when someone does something for you?"

"Thank you?"

"Thank you, _what?_" he stood from the chair, grinning.

You had forgotten what he had told you to call him

"Thank you… daddy." The word tasted strange, but not unpleasant.

He grinned wider, showing too many teeth.

"That's a good girl. Now, for this dinner you will be seen and not heard." He took your arm, moving to fold it under his, when he noticed the painless red marks from the cuffs. He stared at them through his sunglasses before pinching above the red skin and pulling the red out; leaving your skin normal and a pair of short thick strings of red, almost like yarn, hanging from his fingertips. These he gathered in his right hand. Then with his left he gently turned your face toward his, gestured toward your eye and then toward his right hand. He then clasped his hands together loosely. When he opened them, there was a thin metallic bracelet wrapped possessively around a single stone that matched your eyes. this he slipped on your wrist, finally claiming your left arm in his he opened the door to outside.


	2. Chapter 2

You were looking around as soon as he opened the door. What you saw wasn't terribly exciting: a normal enough hallway with white walls and periwinkle carpet. It was long and thin in a short L shape, like a Tetris piece. There were two doors on the long side, to your right. Your door was at the end, before the turn to your left; where the final door was. All of the doors were identical and the textured walls were bare. It was a short trip to another set of doors, arranged in an open square.

He took you through the one straight ahead into a warmly lit dining room. The wood table was long, and had two sets of matching high-backed chairs on either side. Your escort pulled your seat out for you, and pushed you in when you sat. Every attempt to break the silence was met with a glare. So, you sat and fidgeted with your new bracelet: noting the gem was in there very sturdily. Several seemingly endless minutes passed until another man appeared: one you had not seen yet. His hair was black, and you noticed his front teeth bucked out a little when he grinned at you. He was holding a china soup tureen as he came through the same door you had. He set it down on the table and sat across from your captor. This new bespectacled man glanced your way again before he started smugly speaking in a guttural language you could neither recognize nor decipher. You only had to endure a couple seconds of this: the man who'd fed you breakfast walked in, disheveled and obviously flustered. Along with his sunglasses from earlier he was wearing a white button-up shirt and slacks with a black tie, or rather, almost was. There were several unbuttoned buttons, his tie was barely on his neck, and his sunglasses were falling off his nose; revealing his orange eyes for the split second it took for him to realize that there were more people in this room than he was expecting. You could almost hear the 'oh, _fuck_' in his features, before he visibly calmed- almost like a mask sliding into place alongside his glasses- and excused himself. The black haired gentleman was failing to hide his grin behind a raised hand. You looked at the man next to you: he looked unamused, until he noticed your glance to which he placed a long-fingered hand on your thigh and smirked briefly. The hand stayed.

"Every time, Jake?" he asked. This was clearly for your benefit.

"Of course!" the other man, apparently named Jake, replied "When this opportunity knocks, I can't let it pass. Call it genetic."

Pointy-sunglasses returned to the dining room at this point. He looked absolutely sharp, which was impressive, given his previous state.

"Welcome back, Dirk" Jake said, looking mischievous. "You keep getting faster at that." Dirk scoffed and sat at the final seat, across the table from you. You got the distinct impression that he wasn't making eye contact, even though nobody could see his eyes.

Jake motioned to a cabinet behind your neighbor

"Would you mind, terribly, getting what we're to eat on and with, Dave?"

The feeling of the room changed drastically at the name. You got goose bumps… Not really. But it felt like you really, really should have. Like it was some huge twist. A massive reveal… These are some very weird thoughts for you. You mentally shook the feeling and focused back on the room you were in; they were deep in a conversation you knew nothing about, and someone had dished out the soup. Dave's hand was no longer on your thigh, and his smirk had returned. You tasted the soup: it was an Italian wedding soup, and absolutely delicious.

As the meal progressed (if it could still be called that, it was only the soup) you noticed a few things: Dirk would jump or stutter every so often, sometimes faltering out entirely mid-sentence. These were usually followed by a grin from his neighbor. Dave would fidget, even when he was talking: sometimes with hems or loose strings on his own clothes, sometimes on yours; sometimes he would trace idle patterns on your leg or arm, and the aviators made it hard to tell if he was looking at you.

Not that you could judge him for it. You finished the soup and proceeded to fidget as well: tracing along the rim of the bowl, trying to pull your skirt lower, readjusting your skirt when Dave focused elsewhere, playing with your bracelet, playing with the choker, or thoroughly examining the table (it had 5 scratches, 3 dents, and 4 droplets of soup). All they discussed were things you had never heard of either: something about siblings elsewhere, hunters, and a man they referred to as Voldemort (something about already being here). Dirk didn't add much, every time he tried he would be cut off- and that's what it was, cutting him off, giving him hell. Not that he seemed to mind.

You hadn't even realized you'd never seen Jake's left hand (even though you knew exactly where it was) until it thumped onto the table alongside its matching right; its owner pushing himself to rise, signaling the end of the meal. Dave helped you out of your seat, offering his crooked arm, and led you out the door.

When the pair of you returned to your door, Dave gently pushed you against the door and kissed you. The kiss was deep, passionate and full of obvious need, which you returned. His hands roamed your body; mostly staying within the fabric of the dress, but whenever he missed the contact of your skin would send a wave of heat through you. This only lasted a few moments, though. He broke the kiss and backed up a little, gently holding you in place.

"You don't remember enough, to go on would be taking advantage of you." he said. He then gave you a quick peck to your cheek, showed you through your door and then started talking again

"You have homework for tomorrow. It'll be in the top right drawer of the armoire. Make sure you read it." he shut the door with a click, leaving you alone with your frustration. You quickly changed back into what you'd initially put on, grabbed a book you barely read as you fantasized until you fell asleep.


End file.
